


Douse Us In My Sins

by LightlySaltedSalt



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Komaeda Nagito Being Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito Is Obsessed With Hope, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, Spoilers, Suffering Komaeda Nagito, Suicide Attempt, Tired Hinata Hajime, but like only a little comfort, cause im mean, for chapter 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 22:08:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30095853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightlySaltedSalt/pseuds/LightlySaltedSalt
Summary: The obligatory 'Nagito survives Chapter 5' fic
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Komaeda Nagito
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Nagito smiled slightly as he worked. He threw the spear over the ceiling girder, and held the end of the chord. Then, slowly and methodically, he wrapped some tan rope around the pillars, making sure each length was long enough. He wrapped a small piece of rope around his left hand, before burning the end of it with his oil lighter. He lied down on the cold concrete, and put a strip of duct tape over his mouth, before tying the ropes on the pillars around his limbs, making sure not to let go of the spear. Then, he pulled out his survival knife. Nagito held his breath for a moment. This was it. Nagito plunged the knife directly into his thigh. Fighting back a choked scream, he ripped it out, and stabbed himself again, and again, and again, and again. 

Soon enough both of his thighs were littered with deep stab wounds. Fighting back cries of pain, Nagito changed his target. He began to make deep lacerations in his left arm, slicing through his sleeves and skin like butter. Nagito stopped, catching his breath. The pain was immense, but he wasn’t done. In fact, he had barely begun. He shoved the knife into the Monokuma plushie beside him, and with a muffled cry, he drove his hand down onto it, before knocking the plushie aside, still tightly gripping the spear cord. 

Now, all he had to do was wait. Wait in absolute agony as he slowly bled out on the concrete, waiting for the other inhabitants of Jabberwock Island to arrive and finish what he started.

Finally, after what felt like eons of pain, the door burst open. Nagito couldn't see it since the curtain was in the way, but he could easily hear the sound of it being kicked open, even with the creepy music blaring in the background. If it weren't for the immense pain he was in and the tape over his mouth, he’d have smiled. Then, he saw a small flame start to grow on the curtain, and soon enough, the whole thing was engulfed in flame. Nagito watched it, still gripping the spear’s cord tightly, hoping they would get the fire grenades soon, so the pain could end. Nagito heard shouting from the other end of the warehouse, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying over the loud music and the crackling of the fire. By now, most of the curtain had burned up, but Nagito couldn't see much beyond the raging flames. He just laid there for what felt like an eternity, though it was likely only a few minutes, subjected to the heat of the flames, and the pain all over his body. 

Eventually, Nagito saw the sprinklers come on, dousing the fire. The fire slowly shrank just enough that he could just barely make out the door, and the people there. Hajime, Kazuichi, Sonia, Fuyuhiko, Akane, and Chiaki were standing there, watching the fire slowly go out. Each one had a fully intact red fire grenade in hand. Nagito’s pale skin became even paler. They were too slow. The sprinklers came on before they got back with the grenades, and now they weren’t throwing them. Nagito stared wide-eyed, as the fire was diminished to nothing but smoke before his eyes. He saw the six people before him start running in, only to be stopped by Monokuma, and then all leave. All Nagito could do was watch, unable to move, as they all left the building, leaving him alone with the smoke and the pain. 

After a painfully long time, most of the smoke was cleared away, and the others came back. At this point, he was struggling to breathe properly with the tape over his mouth, and his eyes were streaming from all the smoke, or maybe from the pain, he couldn't be sure. He had been trying to get out, but with three limbs tied, and the last one with a knife sticking out of it, his efforts were futile, so he had had to just lie there and take it, but they were finally back. Throughout the time he spent lying there, he contemplated just letting go of the spear and ending his suffering, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. He wanted his death to have meaning. So, he just allowed himself to suffer. 

Nagito watched as all the others slowly and hesitantly made their way towards where he lay. They ducked beneath what was left of the curtain, and finally, they saw him. Suddenly, all of their demeanors changed. 

“UWAAAGGHHHHHH!!" Kazuichi screamed. "HE'S DEEEEAAAAD!"

"MMMHFF!" Nagito let out a muffled cry. Kazuichi quickly went silent, before screaming again,

"HE'S ALIIIIIIIVE!!" 

"Silence!" Sonia exclaimed, shutting Kazuichi up. She and Hajime quickly crouched down and began untying him. Sonia took the spear cord out of Nagito's hand and held onto it herself as she slowly started lowering the spear, before taking it away. Hajime took the duct tape off of Nagito's mouth, and Nagito immediately took a large gasp for air, sounding as though he just ran a marathon as he coughed and wheezed. 

"What the hell happened?" Hajime asked as he worked on untying Nagito's right arm. Nagito didn't respond, he just kept gasping for air and wheezing pathetically. Suddenly, while untying Nagito's legs, Sonia accidentally bumped Nagito's thigh, right where he had stabbed himself, causing a strangled cry to escape his lips, the sound akin to that of a kicked puppy. Nagito squeezed his eyes shut.

"I am sorry!" Sonia apologized, as she kept untying him, more carefully now. 

Soon enough, Nagito was fully untied, the only thing left was the knife still stabbed into his left hand that they couldn't remove until they could bandage his hand up. Hajime gently lifted Nagito up, and began carrying him out of the warehouse, presumably to the hospital. All the way, they kept asking him questions like; "Who did this?" "What happened?" "Why did you lie about the bombs?" Some people seemed worried, but they still seemed angry about the bomb scare. Nagito didn't answer anyone. He just kept quiet as they brought him to the hospital. 

They arrived at the hospital, and Hajime set Nagito down on a bed. By now, both he and Hajime were covered in his blood. Once they were all situated in the room, they got to work, doing their best to help him without Mikan around. 

"Alright, Nagito, this is gonna hurt, but it'll be over soon, yeah?" Chiaki said, grasping the handle of the knife in Nagito's hand. Nagito swallowed a lump in his throat, and nodded. Chiaki put one of her hands onto Nagito's for stability, and then, in one quick motion, she pulled the knife out of his hand.

"AUGHH!" Nagito screamed in pain. His breath was ragged and he was shaking violently from all the pain. Quickly, Sonia began wrapping Nagito's hand up in many layers of bandages, as Chiaki disposed of the knife. All the while, Akane, Kazuichi and Fuyuhiko watched, Kazuichi visibly unsettled, and Hajime was trying to wipe away some of the blood covering him.

"Hey, Fuyuhiko, come here." Chiaki said. "We need to take off his jacket and pants so we can bandage him up and it would be better if a boy did it, I think." Fuyuhiko nodded reluctantly, and stood up, and began removing Nagito's torn, bloodied jacket. He grimaced at the gruesome lacerations on Nagito’s arm, but said nothing. Sonia quickly wrapped up his arm, doing her best to not hurt him. Then, Fuyuhiko started to awkwardly pull Nagito’s pants down, which would've been a lot easier if Nagito was responding or moving, but he just sat there, wide eyed and shaky, as the fabric shifting over his stab wounds sent spikes of pain throughout his body. Eventually, Fuyuhiko got the fabric off of Nagito’s bloodied legs, allowing Chiaki and Sonia to bandage up the deep wounds, finally covering the last of his injuries. 

Eventually, they all awkwardly left, except for Hajime, who stuck around, sitting in a chair beside Nagito’s bed. Nagito could tell he had something to say, but he kept silent for a while, fidgeting with his hands. 

After a while, Hajime finally spoke. 

“Why?” He asked. Nagito flinched slightly at his words breaking the tense silence.

“Why…?” Nagito echoed, feigning ignorance.

“Why would you do that to yourself?” Hajime asked, looking anywhere but Nagito’s eyes. Nagito looked down at his hands resting in his lap.

“Who says I did all that myself?” Nagito asked quietly.

“You were holding the spear.” Hajime said. “And what killer would leave their weapon in the victim’s hands?” Nagito went silent. He didn’t know how he could play this off.

“I just…” He started. He had nothing to say. He trailed off, refusing to look Hajime in the eye.

“Nagito, I just want to know… why?” Hajime asked again. 

“I…” Nagito trailed off. He forced a condescending expression, and changed his tone as he said, “Why should I tell you?”

“Huh?” Hajime didn't seem to expect that kind of reaction. “Fine, you don't have to tell me why you tried to do that but…”

“But?” Nagito echoed, still with an air of condescension. 

“But nothing you just did makes any sense!” Hajime said. “If you just wanted to.. Y’know… die… Why didn't you just drop the spear? And why would you go that far with your injuries?” Nagito went quiet for a moment before speaking.

“None of your business, Hajime.” He said coldly. 

“Nagito, please.” Hajime said. 

“What makes a talentless Reserve Course student think he’s fit to interrogate an Ultimate?” Nagito asked coldly. Hajime sighed.

“Fine, then.” He said. “I’ll just go.” Slowly, Hajime stood up, and exited the room, leaving Nagito alone with his thoughts.

Nagito was alone now, just sitting in an empty hospital. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd done and how badly he'd fucked it up. Right now, he was supposed to be dead, and all those filthy Despairs were meant to be on their way to joining him. How could this even happen to him? He was supposed to be the Ultimate Lucky Student, yet his Luck failed him when he needed it most? How was that even possible? How could he have failed like this? Why did those sprinklers turn on when they did? Why didn’t they throw the fire grenades? Why was he still alive?

~-~-~-~-~-~

Nagito awoke slowly in his white hospital bed, having not realized he fell asleep. Nagito sighed. He only just woke up and he already felt like shit. Just yesterday, he botched his kamikaze plan, and now he was alive and in pain. He failed so miserably. He and the other Despairs should have been dead by now. Why did he have to fuck it up? He couldn't live with himself knowing what he did. He should be dead. Subhuman trash like him deserves to die. A small tear tracked down Nagito's cheek. Everything he ever wanted… To be the Ultimate Hope… It was all impossible. He was a Remnant of Despair. He was an enemy of hope. He and all the others need to die. They all deserve it. 

Just then, a harsh knock on the door shook Nagito out of his spiraling thoughts. 

"Hey, Nagito, it's uh, Kazuichi. Miss Sonia told me to bring you some food." Kazuichi sounded nervous. Nagito couldn't blame him. Anyone would be unsettled by a filthy creature like him. Nagito decided he couldn't be bothered to answer Kazuichi. He just opted to ignore him. He wanted to be alone. He heard Kazuichi call out a few more times, before hearing the sound of something being put down, and footsteps walking away. 

Nagito sighed, and just turned over in his bed. He doubted he could even stand with his injuries, much less walk to the door, so he just stayed put. Trash like him didn't deserve food anyways, so he might as well just stay in bed. 

A few hours passed with Nagito just spending his time staring at the ceiling. All he had to think about was the pain in his body and the dark thoughts in his head, so it was no surprise that he was absolutely miserable. 

Yet another knock sounded against the door just then. Nagito flopped his head to the side in slight irritation. Who was bothering him now?

"Hey, Nagito!" Hajime called. Nagito sighed heavily. Why was Hajime here? Shouldn't he want nothing to do with him after yesterday?

"What do you want, Hajime?" Nagito called back tiredly. He didn't have much energy, but for some reason he didn't want to ignore Hajime.

"Kazuichi said you didn't take your food." Hajime said. "He figured you were still asleep so I came to make sure you get it."

“Oh.” Was all Nagito said. 

“I’m just gonna bring this in now…” Hajime said, opening the door up. Nagito stared at him as he came in and put a tray of food on top of the drawers near Nagito’s bed. After putting it down, Hajime just stood there in the middle of the room awkwardly for a few minutes.

“What else do you want?” Nagito asked, unsure of if he wanted Hajime to leave or not. Hajime stayed quiet for a moment. 

“Are… Are you okay?” He asked after a little. 

“...Huh?” Nagito questioned, caught off guard. Why was Hajime asking him if he was okay?

“I mean like… emotionally, physically, are you okay?” Hajime asked again. Nagito was quiet for a moment, before putting on his most friendly smile and speaking.

“I’m fine, Hajime!” He said, sounding a bit too upbeat, especially considering his actions and words yesterday. “No need for you to be all worried for trash like me!” Hajime frowned.

“Are you sure? I mean…” Hajime trailed off, just looking Nagito over before quickly changing the subject. “And don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Sorry…” Nagito said, kicking himself internally. Why was he apologizing to an Ultimate Despair? Hajime is both a talentless Reserve Course Student and a Remnant of Despair, so why the hell did he apologize? Well, he wasn’t any better. He was a Despair too. He couldn't act like he had any moral high ground over Hajime when he was just as bad. Hell, he was even worse. 

"...Nagito?" Hajime's voice cut through his thoughts. 

"Huh?"

"You made a really scary face all of a sudden, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep!" Nagito said, forcing another obviously fake smile. 

"Okay then…" Hajime responded, obviously not believing a word Nagito was saying. "Well, I'll leave this here for you then," He said, gesturing to the tray of food. "And uh, just… know I'm here for you, okay?"

"Hajime, you really don't need to waste your time on scum like me!" Nagito responded in a tone far too casual for the words he spoke. 

“Nagito, stop that.” Hajime said. Nagito went silent, so Hajime continued. “It’s not healthy to talk about yourself like that, you know. Anyways, I need to go. Just… remember what I said, okay?”

“Uh huh.” Nagito agreed half-heartedly as Hajime walked out the door, closing it, and leaving Nagito alone again.

Nagito rolled over with a sigh, and looked at the tray of food on the drawer. The food Monokuma provided was always good but it was nothing next to Teruteru’s food. Teruteru… How many people had he poisoned with his food? How much despair had he spread with such a hopeful talent? Nagito felt sick to his stomach realizing that the food he had eaten once was a weapon against hope. Nagito felt even sicker to think he once admired the Remnants of Despair like a small child admires their favorite celebrity.

A silent tear fell down Nagito's face. He was such a failure. Such worthless scummy garbage that doesn't even deserve to be alive. His face contorted into a sick smile. Oh, how he hated himself. Without a doubt, Nagito would die on this island. He would make sure of it. After all, he was going to die anyways. He only had half a year to a year to live, so he might as well make his death mean something. He might as well take down the other scum of the earth down with him. Maybe then he’d almost be worth something. 

Nagito laughed bitterly. That was wishful thinking. Even if he took down all the Despairs with him he’d still be worth less than dirt. Hell, even just making that comparison was an insult to dirt. 

“Aha..!” He chuckled nervously. “AhahahA!” His breathy wheeze-like nervous laughter picked up into a full on hysterical laugh. “AhAhahahhAHaaaaaHhahahahAaaaaaa! Aahhh HahahhahahahahaaaA!” Nagito doubled over, wheezing, laughing uncontrollably, and coughing. Insane sounding laughter always seemed to take him over when he was nervous or upset. He clutched his chest and throat as he fought to regain his breath as he wheezed. He was even more out of breath than usual. His illnesses really were doing a number on him, huh?

As he regained his breath, Nagito brought his knees up to his chest, wincing as the blankets rubbed over his sensitive legs. Nagito buried his face into his pillow. Slowly, he rubbed the bandages covering his stab wounds, ignoring the pain. He slowly started unwrapping the bloodsoaked bandages on his right thigh, grimacing at the sight before him. The flesh in his leg was torn and shredded. The wound was still actively bleeding, mixing in with the dried blood, forming a sickening pool of blood that almost resembled the texture of partially curdled milk. Slowly, Nagito put the bandage back. It didn’t really stick now that it had been removed, but Nagito couldn’t care less. He kept gently rubbing over the bandages, as he slowly reached his hand up to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse. Nagito smiled slightly. His pulse was weaker than it had ever been before.


	2. Chapter Two

Nagito awoke slowly in his white hospital bed, having not realized he fell asleep. Nagito sighed. He only just woke up and he already felt like shit. Just yesterday, he botched his kamikaze plan, and now he was alive and in pain. He failed so miserably. He and the other Despairs should have been dead by now. Why did he have to fuck it up? He couldn't live with himself knowing what he did. He should be dead. Subhuman trash like him deserves to die. A small tear tracked down Nagito's cheek. Everything he ever wanted… To be the Ultimate Hope… It was all impossible. He was a Remnant of Despair. He was an enemy of hope. He and all the others need to die. They all deserve it. 

Just then, a harsh knock on the door shook Nagito out of his spiraling thoughts. 

"Hey, Nagito, it's uh, Kazuichi. Miss Sonia told me to bring you some food." Kazuichi sounded nervous. Nagito couldn't blame him. Anyone would be unsettled by a filthy creature like him. Nagito decided he couldn't be bothered to answer Kazuichi. He just opted to ignore him. He wanted to be alone. He heard Kazuichi call out a few more times, before hearing the sound of something being put down, and footsteps walking away. 

Nagito sighed, and just turned over in his bed. He doubted he could even stand with his injuries, much less walk to the door, so he just stayed put. Trash like him didn't deserve food anyways, so he might as well just stay in bed. 

A few hours passed with Nagito just spending his time staring at the ceiling. All he had to think about was the pain in his body and the dark thoughts in his head, so it was no surprise that he was absolutely miserable. 

Yet another knock sounded against the door just then. Nagito flopped his head to the side in slight irritation. Who was bothering him now?

"Hey, Nagito!" Hajime called. Nagito sighed heavily. Why was Hajime here? Shouldn't he want nothing to do with him after yesterday?

"What do you want, Hajime?" Nagito called back tiredly. He didn't have much energy, but for some reason he didn't want to ignore Hajime.

"Kazuichi said you didn't take your food." Hajime said. "He figured you were still asleep so I came to make sure you get it."

“Oh.” Was all Nagito said. 

“I’m just gonna bring this in now…” Hajime said, opening the door up. Nagito stared at him as he came in and put a tray of food on top of the drawers near Nagito’s bed. After putting it down, Hajime just stood there in the middle of the room awkwardly for a few minutes.

“What else do you want?” Nagito asked, unsure of if he wanted Hajime to leave or not. Hajime stayed quiet for a moment. 

“Are… Are you okay?” He asked after a little. 

“...Huh?” Nagito questioned, caught off guard. Why was Hajime asking him if he was okay?

“I mean like… emotionally, physically, are you okay?” Hajime asked again. Nagito was quiet for a moment, before putting on his most friendly smile and speaking.

“I’m fine, Hajime!” He said, sounding a bit too upbeat, especially considering his actions and words yesterday. “No need for you to be all worried for trash like me!” Hajime frowned.

“Are you sure? I mean…” Hajime trailed off, just looking Nagito over before quickly changing the subject. “And don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Sorry…” Nagito said, kicking himself internally. Why was he apologizing to an Ultimate Despair? Hajime is both a talentless Reserve Course Student and a Remnant of Despair, so why the hell did he apologize? Well, he wasn’t any better. He was a Despair too. He couldn't act like he had any moral high ground over Hajime when he was just as bad. Hell, he was even worse. 

"...Nagito?" Hajime's voice cut through his thoughts. 

"Huh?"

"You made a really scary face all of a sudden, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep!" Nagito said, forcing another obviously fake smile. 

"Okay then…" Hajime responded, obviously not believing a word Nagito was saying. "Well, I'll leave this here for you then," He said, gesturing to the tray of food. "And uh, just… know I'm here for you, okay?"

"Hajime, you really don't need to waste your time on scum like me!" Nagito responded in a tone far too casual for the words he spoke. 

“Nagito, stop that.” Hajime said. Nagito went silent, so Hajime continued. “It’s not healthy to talk about yourself like that, you know. Anyways, I need to go. Just… remember what I said, okay?”

“Uh huh.” Nagito agreed half-heartedly as Hajime walked out the door, closing it, and leaving Nagito alone again.

Nagito rolled over with a sigh, and looked at the tray of food on the drawer. The food Monokuma provided was always good but it was nothing next to Teruteru’s food. Teruteru… How many people had he poisoned with his food? How much despair had he spread with such a hopeful talent? Nagito felt sick to his stomach realizing that the food he had eaten once was a weapon against hope. Nagito felt even sicker to think he once admired the Remnants of Despair like a small child admires their favorite celebrity.

A silent tear fell down Nagito's face. He was such a failure. Such worthless scummy garbage that doesn't even deserve to be alive. His face contorted into a sick smile. Oh, how he hated himself. Without a doubt, Nagito would die on this island. He would make sure of it. After all, he was going to die anyways. He only had half a year to a year to live, so he might as well make his death mean something. He might as well take down the other scum of the earth down with him. Maybe then he’d almost be worth something. 

Nagito laughed bitterly. That was wishful thinking. Even if he took down all the Despairs with him he’d still be worth less than dirt. Hell, even just making that comparison was an insult to dirt. 

“Aha..!” He chuckled nervously. “AhahahA!” His breathy wheeze-like nervous laughter picked up into a full on hysterical laugh. “AhAhahahhAHaaaaaHhahahahAaaaaaa! Aahhh HahahhahahahahaaaA!” Nagito doubled over, wheezing, laughing uncontrollably, and coughing. Insane sounding laughter always seemed to take him over when he was nervous or upset. He clutched his chest and throat as he fought to regain his breath as he wheezed. He was even more out of breath than usual. His illnesses really were doing a number on him, huh?

As he regained his breath, Nagito brought his knees up to his chest, wincing as the blankets rubbed over his sensitive legs. Nagito buried his face into his pillow. Slowly, he rubbed the bandages covering his stab wounds, ignoring the pain. He slowly started unwrapping the bloodsoaked bandages on his right thigh, grimacing at the sight before him. The flesh in his leg was torn and shredded. The wound was still actively bleeding, mixing in with the dried blood, forming a sickening pool of blood that almost resembled the texture of partially curdled milk. Slowly, Nagito put the bandage back. It didn’t really stick now that it had been removed, but Nagito couldn’t care less. He kept gently rubbing over the bandages, as he slowly reached his hand up to the side of his neck, feeling his pulse. Nagito smiled slightly. His pulse was weaker than it had ever been before.


	3. Chapter Three

~Hajime POV~

Hajime was sitting in the break room in the hospital. He was staying there for the time being as they had all decided to stay in the hospital in shifts until Nagito was recovered. Hajime was taking longer and more frequent shifts than the others. Nobody else seemed to even want to help out. Nobody else really cared about Nagito, in fact some of the others said it would've been better if he just died there. Hajime supposed he couldn't really blame them. After all, this was the guy that had just caused a bomb scare, as well as having gotten multiple people killed before. It wasn't too surprising that some people didn't care much that he nearly died. Not to mention, they still didn't know his motive for doing what he did, especially to such a ridiculous extent, and knowing Nagito, there very well may have been malicious intent.

Hajime sighed. Just to further sell the idea of Nagito's malice, the boy was laughing maniacally from his room. Hajime could only barely hear it, but he knew that laugh anywhere. A laugh so full of malice that it was beyond unnerving could be made out from miles away.

Slowly, the muffled laughter died down, and soon enough it all became silent. Hajime didn't know it yet, but this would become a pattern. He'd stay in the hospital because nobody else would, waiting for when Nagito was able, or willing, to return to his cottage. Every night, without fail, and sometimes in the morning or afternoon too, Hajime would hear Nagito laugh hysterically for hours on end. Some part of Hajime almost didn't want Nagito to go back to his cottage at all so he could watch him (not in a creepy way or anything, he was just worried) and make sure nothing happened to him, or anyone else for that matter. Still, Hajime was losing sleep. He had taken to staying in the room directly next to Nagito's, so he could hear him clearly, and he'd often awaken at four in the goddamn morning to the sound of evil laughter. Monokuma had almost kicked him out, and it took a lot of talking to convince him that he needed to be there in case Nagito's wounds opened and he started bleeding out. Really, it was bullshit, Hajime just felt anxious about leaving him alone, whether it was worry for Nagito or for the people he may hurt, he wasn't sure. Now though, he almost wished he let Monokuma evict him from the hospital, because Nagito's late night laughing bouts were getting obnoxious.

It had been about a week of Nagito and Hajime staying in the hospital. Hajime wasn't sure if Nagito even knew he was staying there, but if he did, he didn't seem to care. Hajime was more tired than ever, and his eyebags were growing. Whenever he left the hospital to get food, the others would always tell him to stop staying in the hospital for his sanity's sake, but he didn't listen. That night though, Hajime was done. It was half past four in the morning, and once again, Hajime was unwillingly forced into the waking world by the sound of Nagito's crazy wheeze-laugh. Usually, Hajime would just roll over and try to fall back asleep, however futile it may be, but not tonight. This time, he wanted to go find out what was so goddamn funny to Nagito that he's laughing his ass off at four am.

Thus, Hajime got up, left his room, and went into Nagito's. He gave a soft knock, and heard the laughter hitch slightly before continuing, this time sounding a bit more muffled. Still, Nagito didn't respond. Hajime decided to just come in, as Nagito seemed to know he was there, judging by the slight freeze in his laughter, so he figured it'd be fine. Slowly, Hajime twisted the knob and opened the door.

When he stepped inside, what he saw shocked him. He didn't know what he expected, maybe Nagito laughing crazily while holding some scalpel he somehow got his hands on, or while doing that weird pose he does when he laughs, but regardless of what he expected, it definitely wasn't this.

In the corner of the room, on his white hospital bed, Nagito was curled up with his back against the wall and his knees pressed to his chest. His hands were pulling at his hair, and he was shaking violently. His eyes were wide and streaming tears as he rocked back and forth. His mouth was twisted into a wide pained grin that was spouting out that breathy wheeze-like laughter. Hajime couldn't believe what he was seeing. This whole time, Hajime had been thinking Nagito was probably plotting another murder or something, but he was wrong, wasn't he? Nagito wasn't off the deep end, he was having a panic attack.

Hajime was frozen for a moment. He didn't know what to do or say. What should he do? Slowly, Hajime approached Nagito, who didn't seem to be paying attention to him.

"H-hey, Nagito-" Hajime spoke softly. Nagito's eyes swiveled over to look at Hajime as he evidently tried to quell his laughing and his crying. Nagito squeezed his eyes shut, and dug his hands deeper into his hair.

"H-Haji-me?" Nagito stuttered out amidst sobs. His laughter had almost completely disappeared by now, replaced by sobs and harsh breaths. "W-what are you... d-oing here?" Hajime could tell Nagito was struggling to form complete sentences and sound somewhat articulate, despite his clear inability to do so.

"I... came here to help you." Hajime responded, keeping his voice soft. Nagito didn't say anything. All Hajime got from him were violent sobs and shakes.

"....W-why?" Nagito finally asked shakily.

"Huh?" Hajime questioned. "What do you mean, 'why'?" Nagito shuddered even more, and shook his head.

"W-why... would you... c-care about s-someone li-" Nagito broke off, descending into even more wheezes and cries. Hajime didn't respond. He had no idea what to say for a moment, but eventually he came to his senses and realized something had to be said to calm the shaking boy.

"Of course I care." Hajime said gently. "You're still human. You don't deserve to be in pain." Some part of Hajime's mind strongly refuted his words. Nagito had gotten multiple people killed, on top of causing mass panic, and setting off a bomb in the restaurant. Did he really deserve to be comforted like this? Hajime's rational mind told him to just leave, yet for some twisted reason, his irrational emotional mind told him Nagito did deserve comfort, and his heart told him to stay.

"D-don't... lie..." Nagito choked out with a sob. "I'm not... I-im s-subhuman trash." Part of Hajime still wanted to agree with that statement, but Hajime pushed those thoughts aside.

"Nagito..." He started. "Don't say things like that about yourself. Nagito went quiet for a while, save for his poorly muffled sobs and harsh breaths. Finally, Nagito spoke, and what he said broke Hajime's heart.

"... H-hajime... Do you... D-do you think it would be b-better if I was dead?"


	4. Chapter Four

"... H-hajime... Do you... D-do you think it would be b-better if I was dead?"

...

...

...

Some dark corner of Hajime's mind told him to offer words in affirmation. If he said yes, Hajime had no doubt Nagito would end his own life that very night. It would be an easy trial, his mind reasoned. And it would get rid of the most dangerous person on the island...

Hajime pushed his intrusive thoughts away and responded.

"No!" He said, trying to keep his voice soft. "Look, Nagito, you don't deserve to die, okay? You deserve to live and be happy like anyone else, okay?" Nagito bit at his lip and dug his hands deep into his hair.

"N-no... No, I don't." He said shakily. "I-I've killed people... So, so many p-people... I-I should just d-die... Y-you don't understand..." Hajime's mind froze. Nagito wasn't wrong. He did kill people, albeit indirectly. He did do terrible things. So how was he supposed to convince him that he didn't deserve to die when everything he said was true?

"Look... Nagito..." Hajime started, not sure how this was gonna work out. "I... can't deny that you've done some... immoral things... but that still doesn't deny your right to life and happiness." Nagito shook his head while tugging even harder at his hair. Suddenly, Hajime noticed a small pink streak running down the side of Nagito's head. Quickly, Hajime ran up to Nagito's side and gently pried Nagito's hands from his head. "Nagito, stop that." He said. "You're bleeding." Nagito flinched at the contact, but allowed Hajime to pull his hands away from his head. The pink trail of blood ran slowly down Nagito's face, mixing with his tears and falling away, creating a small pink stain on the boy's shirt.

Hajime kept holding Nagito's hands, noticing how his touch seemed to calm the boy slightly. Nagito just put his head down, shaking less now, but still evidently crying. He seemed less panicked now and more... sad.

"I've probably killed thousands of people..." Nagito said softly and still somewhat shakily. "And you're concerned about a little blood?"

"Huh?" Hajime asked. "Nagito, what are you talking about? There were only sixteen of us to begin with... Out of those people only two deaths could even remotely be tied to you. What do you mean, thousands?" Nagito wrenched his hands from Hajime and buried his face in them, sobbing harder and shaking again. He started muttering things Hajime couldn't make out.

"Nagito," Hajime said concernedly. "Talk to me. What's going on?" Nagito just shook his head, trembling even more than he was before. He pulled his knees tighter to his chest, buried his head in them, and pressed his hands to his neck. At this point Hajime knew something was really, really wrong. What could possibly break down someone who was unphased over death and carnage like this? Whatever it was, it had to be really bad. Hajime just said the only thing he could think of. "Nagito? Can I give you a hug?" Hajime didn't know what he was doing, he just wanted to offer the boy some semblance of comfort. Nagito didn't respond for a moment, but eventually gave a shaky nod. Slowly, Hajime sat down on the bed next to Nagito, and wrapped him in a gentle hug. Hajime noted the way Nagito flinched at the contact, despite knowing it was coming. Still though, being held seemed to relax him at least a little, as Nagito's shaking was less violent now, though still quite evident. Nagito grabbed onto the front of Hajime's shirt and buried his face in the crook of his neck.

"H-Haji...me.." Nagito stuttered out.

"Hm?" Hajime responded softly.

"Y-You sh-shouldn't be h-here..."

"Huh?" Hajime questioned. "Why not? I'm just trying to help you." Nagito didn't answer him. Instead, he stayed quiet for a moment before saying something else.

"H-Hajime?" He asked again, stuttering and shaking less this time.

"Yeah?" Hajime asked, expecting another random statement.

"W-what would you... What would you d-do if you found out you were something you d-despised?" Hajime thought for a moment.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "I guess I'd try to fix whatever it was about myself I hated. Why randomly bring that up now, though?" Nagito lifted his head from Hajime's shoulder and looked Hajime dead in the eye. Hajime was used to his batshit crazy spiral eyes, but this was different, and somehow worse. He just looked... sad. He had that look about him of someone who'd completely given up. Behind the blank stare, Hajime could tell there was still a lot of pain and fear in the boy, yet he still just seemed dead.

"No reason..." Nagito said much more steadily. "Just the pointless musings of a piece of trash."

"Nagito..." Hajime said sadly. He really didn't like the way Nagito talked about himself.

"Right..." Nagito said, clearly picking up on what Hajime was thinking. "Um.. Im okay now, Hajime... You don't need to waste any more time on tra-" He cut himself off before continuing. "I mean, on me." Nagito pulled away from Hajimes arms, and returned to his curled up position with his knees to his chest.

"Are you sure?" Hajime asked softly. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I already told you, Hajime. I'll be fine." He said. "Just go back to sleep."

"...Alright," Hajime agreed. "Just... Let me know if you need anything, okay?" Slowly, Hajime pulled away from the boy and got up. He walked out the door, leaving it slightly ajar so as not to make Nagito feel trapped, and returned to his own room one door down.

Hajime laid down on his rock hard "bed" and closed his eyes. He was exhausted but he couldn't seem to take his mind off of Nagito. He said so many things that didn't make sense. Hajime tried to chock it up to the strange ramblings of someone not in their right mind, but something told him that he shouldn't dismiss Nagito's words so easily. He said he'd killed thousands of people... What the hell did that mean? He could easily say he'd killed two but... Even for someone who's not in the right headspace... two and a thousand are pretty far apart. Now that Hajime thought about it, Nagito had said that he "Probably killed thousands of people." Probably... Saying that makes it sound like he doesn't know... Like he's some kind of serial killer who's killed so many people he can't keep count... or maybe... it's like he doesn't even remember committing the murders...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end. Sorry, it's probably not a satisfying end. Maybe I'll continue or rewrite this someday. I know fics like this are usually a bit more Hurt/Comfort-y but y'know. I'm mean.

**Author's Note:**

> Usually fics like this are a little more Hurt/Comfort-y, but y'know. I'm mean.


End file.
